


The Winner Takes It All

by Lothiriel84



Series: Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight) [2]
Category: The Monster Hunters (Podcast)
Genre: Backstory, Drinking, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:32:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21795778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: The game is on again
Relationships: Lord Greg Powers/Roy Steel
Series: Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570618
Kudos: 1





	The Winner Takes It All

Reg Steel’s pad is nowhere near as impressive as the late Lord Powers’, but that hardly matters in the big scheme of things. If anything, his life here is miles better than it used to be under his old man’s thumb, as he’s finally showered with the admiration and approval he’s been craving for as long as he can remember.

Two years he’s been living with the Steels, and they all seem to think he’s the best thing since hunting rifles; even Roy, no matter how jealous the boy secretly is of the way his father keeps favouring Greg over him.

_You try living for nine long years with the old bastard, then we’ll compare notes_, he thinks, and goes back to pretending he can’t see the hurt in Roy’s eyes. At least Reg Steel got him out of that lion enclosure; Father would’ve just shrugged, and watched his own son being ripped apart.

The doctors say the scars will heal in time; still, just the thought of them is enough to make Greg queasy, which doesn’t make sense given how the sight of blood doesn’t normally bother him.

Much easier to pretend he’s completely unaffected, even more so when they’re both in the same room. It’s only when Roy succumbs to another spell of fitful sleep that he finally creeps closer, touches the tip of his fingers to the bandage covering most of Roy’s left arm.

He trims his moustache the way Reg Steel taught him to, grins at his own reflection staring back from the mirror. He can feel Roy’s eyes on him, the thrill of being watched in the same way a cheetah hiding in the long grass would observe his potential prey – except that in his head, he’s the predator, and Roy the gazelle he’s lying in wait for.

_Mixed metaphors_, he chuckles to himself, startling Roy out of his reverie. _Damn._

He twirls the tip of his moustache between his fingers, resorts to making a quip about Roy’s facial hair, or lack thereof. Better not to reveal his hand just yet, he thinks, stealing a quick glance at the fetching blush now colouring Roy’s cheeks.

Girls are not all that bad when you get used to them, and he’s got a reputation to uphold. Still, they’re nothing compared to big game hunting, the plains of Africa calling out to him now that he knows what it feels like to prove yourself by shooting a wild beast dead. 

(The look on Roy’s face when he shot his first ever lion is permanently etched at the forefront of his mind, something exhilarating he wants to experience over and over again.)

For the first time in his life, he can’t quite tell whether Roy’s being deliberately obtuse, or simply not interested in playing that game; wanting to be just like him is all well and good, but from where Greg is standing, that’s nowhere near as good as wanting to be _with_ him.

Every time he brings yet another faceless girl home after a party, he makes a point of being as theatrical as he can manage; it works insofar as Roy appears to be deeply uncomfortable in the mornings, but it’s not quite as satisfying as plenty other possible outcomes Greg’s been running over in his head.

_I’m a hunter, Roy_, he muses, even as the object of his thoughts slinks away to the privacy of his own room._ I don’t give up that easily._

Yet another African night closes in around them, hot and humid and overwhelmingly intimate. Made pliant by several bottles of booze they’ve been going at all evening, Roy doesn’t seem to object when Greg finally makes his move.

He likes to think he doesn’t give a toss about what society would make of this, but the truth is that he cares about his reputation, and he knows he needs to be careful if he wants to make a name for himself in all the ways that truly matter. Still, here in the vast emptiness of the plains of Africa, as secluded from civilisation as they could ever hope to be, he doesn’t hesitate to take what he believes is his.

(They don’t talk about it, in any of the days to come. By unspoken agreement, Roy comes to lie down beside him every night, and is long gone by the time the first light of dawn starts creeping into the sky.)

All in all, as far as outcomes go, this one’s not entirely unexpected. For nearly a fortnight, the letter lies on his desk, unanswered, yet far from forgotten.

_What does this Winchester girl have that I don’t_, he sneers, downing his scotch in one go. _We could have been great together, you and I._

Well, if he can’t have what he wants, he will see to it that Roy doesn’t, either. After all, he’s been living under the same roof as Reg Steel for the better part of a decade now, and he knows exactly how to push the old man’s buttons.

_Greatest Big Game Hunter in the World has a nice ring to it. Definitely should’ve thought about it sooner, but better late than never, hey?_


End file.
